Hometown Glory
by Starfire Star
Summary: Katniss Everdeen leads a charmed life in the Capitol with her mother and sister, Prim. But in preparation for her wedding, she must face what she's always been hiding from: her uncle, her past, and the boy she left behind in her hometown, Panem. Modern Day AU.
1. Prologue: Collide

_Hi guys! This is my first fanfic in almost three years, as well as my first in the HG fandom. I'm a little rusty at this and getting back into the swing of things, so please be nice ^_^. That being said, please review! I'd appreciate any kind of feedback and advice so I can continuously improve upon my writing. I'm relatively new to the fandom, so I apologize in advance for some OOCness. Also, back when I was active on (I feel so old saying that) we didn't have those banners or anything, so a lot of these changes on the site are new to me and yeah, I feel like a newbie all over again haha. Please teach me! This fanfic was inspired from many sources, including Sweet Home Alabama and Hart of Dixie, but I assure you, it will not be the same! I have a lot of ideas for this fic that I'm excited about. Alright, I'll end this long-ass author's note here. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Hometown Glory**

Prologue: Collide 

I remember the look on his face, the way it lit up as the sun was finally setting.

Neither of us spoke. It was a comfortable silence. I took in the calmness of the lake, marred only by the laughter and cheering of a family as their day's creations of sandcastles toppled at their feet.

It didn't matter what my ears heard, because what my eyes saw was a million times better. I had never seen anything more beautiful. The orange glow illuminated the lake perfectly as the sun slowly descended behind the lush green trees.

I felt that finally, I understood what he was talking about.

As if he could read my mind, I feel his lips at my ear. "See what I mean?" he whispered, pulling me closer to him as my heart fluttered.

I turned to look at him, his blue eyes meeting mine. "Yeah," I smiled at him as he grinned.

"I knew this would calm you down." He pressed his forehead to mine, his lips so close. I met him there and pulled him in, kissing him slowly, intimately before his tongue danced passed his lips to meet my own. I deepened the kiss as I knotted my fingers through his messy blonde hair. He laughed, pulling away, his cheeks starting to flush.

"Don't do this to me. You know if we keep going I won't be able to stop. We'll be rolling around on the beach like two teenagers before you know it," he murmured in my ear.

I could feel the warmth growing in my stomach as I pressed my lips firmly to his, wrapping my arms around his neck again before I broke our kiss.

"You better make sure that Sheriff Darius isn't around, then," I whispered against his mouth. A look of surprise crossed his face before he chuckled softly.

This was the effect he had on me, how good and content he made me feel. I surprised us both with how confident my words sounded. When he snaked his arms around my waist at that moment to feel the curve of my back, it was as if he had known my body for so long.

In that moment, in this memory, when his lips touched my neck as I lay on top of him, pressing him against the sand with the last bit of warmth from the sunset on our bodies, I didn't want to be anywhere else ever again.

I was falling, falling, falling as we rolled over, his strong arms pinning me to the ground. I laughed as I pushed his hair out of his eyes. "You'll be the death of me, Katniss Everdeen," he said huskily, placing light kisses down my neck.

I wake up, face flushed and heart racing, gasping as I bolt straight up in bed. I am breathing hard, clutching the bed sheets to my chest. I let out a small cry, a sob aching in my chest.

I must have pulled the sheets off Gale because he stirs behind me. I feel him turn in bed, his body still half-asleep. "You okay babe?" Gale whispers groggily, a hand reaching out to touch my arm.

I don't call these dreams nightmares. I won't have them turn into that.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I whisper, and Gale's hand drops from my arm. He doesn't ask any more questions. He gave up on that a long time ago. And I know the last thing he wants to do is get up after his long day in court.

Still, I turn to look at him for any source of comfort but he is already snoring, his breathing heavy against his pillow.

I glance out the window of our bedroom. This penthouse definitely gives a fantastic view of the city skyline. This is the city that never fails to keep me company on nights like these. It is quietly busy in the early morning, nothing like the bustling afternoons and wild nights.

I touch the messy braid on my head and begin to take it out, running my fingers through the strands.

_Katniss_. I hear his voice in my head. I close my eyes. I remember how it felt when he used to do this. He loved seeing my hair loose and wavy, running his own fingers through it.

_Katniss_.

_Katniss_. Stop. This has to stop. I am here now, and these dreams do not change anything. I have Gale by my side. My sister Prim goes to a prestigious college here in the Capitol. I finally have my mother back, and she's proud of my flourishing career. I have everything I ever wanted.

Right?


	2. It's Time

_I'm thinking of changing my author's name. I actually made this account when I was really young, and I'm looking for a more mature name. Thoughts on changing my name? Yay or nay? Does it make it more difficult to find my fics if I change my name or has the new (to me) features made it easy to find them regardless?_

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**Hometown Glory**

Chapter One: It's Time

When I see Gale get on one knee, the box with the ring in his hand and promise in his eyes, my heart starts racing. I feel my cheeks begin to flush and my mind reeling. I know this will pass as I wait for Gale to say exactly what I think he will say.

"Katniss Everdeen, will you marry me?"

My lips are parted in shock. Gale knows how I feel about marriage. And here he is, right in front of me, doing all the things I swore I would never agree to. But the look in his eyes of eagerness and enthusiasm makes me want to second-guess what I believe in.

There is a pause as Gale lowers his eyes. "Look, I know this isn't exactly what you expected. I know you wanted Prim to be here. I talked to your mother, but she was booked solid all week. Things have just been so crazy lately, I thought tonight would be as good a night as any."

I look at him, surprised he was trying to reason about the timing of the engagement instead of the views I had made so clear to him from the very beginning, when we were friends and not a couple. But there was something he mentioned that nagged me.

"You told my mother you were going to propose?" I ask calmly. Of course he did. She was the one to reunite Gale and I after I moved here.

The corners of his mouth turn upward. "Yes. She said she would have loved to be here for the proposal, but she would just have to settle for seeing you in all your beauty on your wedding day. And that your dad would have wanted this for you, too." Gale says the last part quietly, cautiously, afraid of striking a nerve with the mention of my father.

I nod slowly, taking this in. My relationship with my mother had been a turbulent one, and I was slowly on my way to forgiving her, even if she wasn't the same person I remembered more than six years ago. And it was difficult for her to talk about Dad. If she said that about him, it must have been too important for the opportunity to pass without mentioning it.

This is another factor causing me to reconsider the whole marriage thing. What would I have to lose? My mother said it would make her happy. She said my dad would want this for me. Prim would love the opportunity to be a Maid of Honor. And Cinna would die at the chance to design a wedding dress.

Gale and I already live together. What would marriage change?

Gale straightens his bended knee and pulls himself up, shaking his head. He snaps the little blue box shut. "Katniss, you could just say no, instead of keeping me waiting like this," he says. I can hear the hurt and disappointment in his voice that he tries to mask with irritation. I reach out my hand to touch his arm as he starts to turn toward our bedroom.

"Wait. Gale, I didn't say no," I stutter as he faces me. His jaw is clenched, face hard.

"Then what is it, Katniss?" the impatience in his voice makes me wince. Something inside me wants to erupt, want to scream and shout at him to just please God for once try to understand, but I have since learned to control this.

"Yes. Yes. I want to marry you," I say hurriedly, closing the gap between us with my body as I place a hand on his chest. Gale doesn't say a word as his arms wrap around my waist, tilting his head down to place a kiss on my forehead.

"Catnip. I love you."

I am silent as he holds me, trying to ignore the painful guilt and doubt thrashing in my gut and pounding at the back of my head.

* * *

The headache returns, albeit for a different reason, as Cinna and I sit at the backseat of a cab on the way to a shoot for the fall collection of his line, Catina. I rub my temples as I hear the car horns beeping in traffic and the driver swearing under his breath. It's times like these when I long for the peace and quiet of Panem, my hometown.

Cinna taps his fingers on his leather-bound notebook, which is full of notes and endless pages of designs. He turns to look at me and smiles, shaking his head as I wring my hands from nervousness.

"Katniss," he says.

"Cinna," I mock him. "I know what you're going to tell me. And no matter how many times I do this, I don't think it'll get any easier. I will _always_ be nervous."

"You're incredibly brave," he tells me seriously. "It's difficult to put yourself out there, I understand that."

"The only good thing about this is that I don't have to say anything," I grumble, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. I am already made up and dressed in my first dress for the shoot. Cinna knew we would be late and called ahead. He had his prep team ready me so I'd be good to go as soon as we were on site.

Cinna chuckles. "Would you rather model my clothes for the runway or for a photoshoot?"

"The runway," I admit, although if I had a choice, I would pick neither. "I'd rather just get it over with quickly. Photoshoots last hours, and the focus is only on me. It takes forever to perfect a photo. But with modeling on the runway, there's other models."

"But that doesn't mean most of the focus is off of you," Cinna teases. I roll my eyes. Of course everyone would still be looking at me. That is the price I pay for being Cinna's muse, his inspiration. I model his line for photoshoots, and on the runway I wear whatever signature piece he makes for that particular collection.

My eyes travel to my left hand, which is bare. I am secretly glad that is has stayed this way, since my engagement ring is off being resized. I feel Cinna's eyes on me. I look up to meet them and I immediately know what he is thinking. I know he knows that no matter how much I dislike the spotlight, it would always be on me now that I was engaged to one of the most prominent lawyers in the city.

I stare wistfully out the window, shifting uncomfortably in my dress. Cinna's innovation of jewels that sparkled like fire was a hit at Fashion Week, earning the dress (and me) the nickname "Girl on Fire".

My emotions were so high-strung and all over the place lately that surely, I was on fire.

* * *

"Katniss!"

I turn around and Prim is running toward me, her blonde hair loose all around her as she throws her arms around me. She grins, pulling away. As I look at her I still can't get over the fact that she's about an inch taller than me now. Where had the time gone? It felt like just yesterday when I was making her grilled cheese sandwiches on the stove while she sat at our beat up wooden kitchen table, her hair in two braids tied with ribbon.

I contemplate these types of memories often after not seeing my sister for a long period, my brain sending me back to a time when she was young and not the rebellious phase she was just in just a few years prior. The whole reason we came to this city in the first place.

She reaches for my hand and I know what she is expecting to find. Her face falls and I wretch my hand away, embarrassed for her disappointment. "It needs to be resized," I explain.

Prim examines my face and shrugs. "No big. Congratulations, Katniss." I smile at her, this glimpse of her younger self resurfacing as she rocks on her heels and peers into the window of the restaurant. "Did you choose this place?"

I give her a look, one that makes it obvious that I would never have picked to eat at this fancy, upscale restaurant-it was my mother who did. She arranged a formal lunch meeting for Gale, Prim and I to make plans for the wedding. Gale phoned me earlier to tell me he had to finish something and would be running late.

I have to admit I was less than-enthusiastic about this lunch meeting, anxious about it even, but grateful for the opportunity to see Prim. Her program was rigorous and demanding, not to mention her school was in a district on the opposite side of town, so I took any chance I could get to spend time with her.

A voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "Hello, girls."

We turn and our mother is standing before us, her hair in a bun and briefcase in hand, wearing a grey dress under a blazer. She looks dressy, and from the look on her face as she takes in me and Prim's outfits, she is displeased that we are not. We hug, and my body stiffens involuntarily.

In the restaurant, my mother immediately takes a notepad out of her briefcase and puts on her glasses. She checks her watch. "I'm sorry I won't be able to stay long. I have to be back at the office in an hour. But we will schedule another date to supplement today's planning." My mother is an OB-GYN and runs her own practice. She became well-known here in the Capitol thanks to her celebrity clients who liked to drop her name in interviews and chat her up to their other celebrity friends.

She wastes no time and writing something on her notepad and underlines it twice, and then turns to me. "First things first. Location."

"Uh," I stammer. I hadn't put much thought into this.

"I was thinking Port Park? It should be large enough to accommodate five hundred guests," my mother offers. I think this idea is absolutely absurd, but I lower my eyes.

Prim looks at me. "I don't even know five hundred people," I say quietly.

My mother laughs and shakes her head. "Of course not, Katniss. Some of the guests will be Gale's. And my own. There may even be some celebrities in attendance," she winks at me as if this is exactly what I want. "You're an up-and-coming model. The networking will be incredibly helpful."

At that moment I want to run out of the restaurant, to tell her that I don't want to network, that I only model for Cinna, that she doesn't know me at all. But I see Prim's eager face and calm myself down. If it weren't for our mother, Prim wouldn't be given the opportunities she has now.

And maybe, just maybe, I wanted my mother to be proud of me, too.

But I could never admit that out loud.

I give my mother a weak smile just as Gale rushes into the restaurant, spotting our table and quickly heading toward us. He leans down to kiss me on the forehead before taking his own seat, an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry I'm late," he says to my mother.

"We've decided that the wedding will take place at Port Park," she says to Gale. He smiles in agreement as my mother checks something off on her notepad. "Now we need to discuss the guests."

"How about we discuss the wedding party? That should be simple enough," Gale asks, seeing the anxiety and discomfort on my face, patting my hand on the table.

This helps some but just barely. Prim saves me. "Of course, I'll be the maid of honour," she grins at me, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Rory will be Gale's best man. Vick can be a groomsman. Posy can be a flowergirl."

"I don't want any other bridesmaids," I say quickly. Prim is enough. She always has been.

"Okay. Now who will walk you down the aisle?" Gale joins in, looking at my mother. She coughs and clears her throat, about to say something, when Prim speaks first, her voice firm as she looks at me.

"I think Uncle Haymitch should do it."

* * *

"What the hell was that, Prim?" I hiss at her once we get into my apartment. I shrug off my leather jacket and bag and throw them on the couch. I quickly make my way to the bathroom, in serious need of some Tylenol.

Prim follows me. "I meant what I said. I think Uncle Haymitch should walk you down the aisle. He saw us grow up. Why shouldn't he?" she asks defensively.

"Did you see the look on Mom's face? She was _pissed_!" I shoot back. "She wanted to do it! And she will," I add.

"Is that really what _you_ want?" Prim says, an edge in her voice. I hesitate for a moment, and she takes that to her advantage, starting her verbal assault-something she knows how to do well.

"Uncle Haymitch is Mom's brother. I'm sure she'll understand. I'm sure she'll even be happy to walk you down the aisle with him," Prim says, an edge in her voice making it known to me that this is the least of the problem.

Standing in front of the sink, I am silently fuming as heat rises to my cheeks and I clench my fists.

"I know you want to see Uncle Haymitch. I know you didn't want to leave," Prim continues, and my head is spinning. She knows she's getting somewhere, and she won't stop here. "I know there's a reason why I'm the only one sending him updates on our lives, and why you can't bear to hear what's going on in Panem."

I grab two Tylenol and bolt out of the bathroom, Prim trailing behind again. "I know there's a reason why you never went back, I know _you loved Peeta_-"

"Stop!" I cry out, slamming my hands on the kitchen counter, pills falling to the ground. I turn to look at Prim. "Stop it, Prim. You don't know anything."

"Katniss, for once, act like my sister and not my mom. Stop trying to protect me. Just tell me," she says, determined not to break her stare. "Okay? I know you feel indebted to mom after the help she gave me when we moved here. I know I was acting like a brat, like a little bitch, and I'm sorry."

I close my eyes, and I remember. When my mother left for the Capitol, leaving us in Uncle Haymitch's care, I took her place, caring for Prim. But when Prim grew into a teenager and started staying out late to party and coming home in the early mornings, getting rides from guys I knew were trouble, I knew Haymitch and I weren't being adequate caregivers.

I remember how Prim used to yell and scream when we tried to keep her from leaving the house. When we had long shouting matches and then periods of silence as we (I) tried to ground her. Some nights we'd crack the door open and find she had escaped out her bedroom window.

So when Mom offered us to come live with her in the Capitol, I agreed. For Prim's sake. She needed her real mother-but that didn't stop me from trying to fill in the gaps my mom still left.

"You sacrificed so much for me," Prim says, tears filling her eyes. She looks away. "So please, do something for yourself. Go back."

"I can't, Prim," my voice is heavy. I have barely said two words and the conversation is already making me feel exhausted.

"Please," Prim begs. "You haven't been the same since you left. We've been living here for three years and I've seen the changes in you. And I know that you're not happy."

"You can't know that," I tell her. "You've been in college. I hardly ever see you."

"I see enough," Prim shoots back defensively. "I see the way you act around Gale and Mom. You're not the same. You're quiet, passive, so willing to let them have their way _all the damn time-_ "

"That's not _fucking_ true, Prim!" I shout. In my head I'm shocked, startled at the power of my own voice and the vulgarity I so rarely used now. But my body is shaking, my face is flaming, and I'm ready to go.

Prim's eyes flash. "Now there's the Katniss I know. The Katniss that won't take bullshit from anyone, the Katniss that knows her own needs-"

"Yeah, and look where that got us," I snarl. "_That_ Katniss couldn't even take care of you properly, _that_ Katniss wasn't there to keep you at home so you wouldn't have gotten in that Godforsaken car crash-"

I pause, not sure what to say after that, so sure that Prim would step in and defend herself, but she is quiet. Tears are streaming down her face and I immediately step forward to wrap my arms around her. "I'm sorry, Prim," I whisper, smoothing her hair away from her face like she's twelve years old again. I can't help it: it's second nature.

She nods. We don't speak for a long time. I sit on the bed, arm wrapped around her shoulder, as she wipes the last of her tears and speaks. "Uncle Haymitch asks about you, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He asks when you're coming back."

I lower my eyes. "It's just been really busy and hectic, with the new collection coming out-"

"You've been saying that _for three years_, Katniss. I think he gets the message."

"I have responsibilities now, Prim. It's called being an adult," I tell her, pulling away to look at her face.

"I'm one less responsibility now, and you know it," Prim tells me simply, no edge or harshness in her voice. "I know you don't owe me anything. But I think we both know who deserves to bear witness to one of the most important days in your life."

I am silent as a lump forms in my throat. Of course Haymitch deserved to be there. I wanted him there more than anything, but inviting him into my life would be like inviting the past back. And I wanted to keep running.

But another chapter of my life was beginning. The previous chapters deserved to finish, to end, to be closed and put away. I knew I couldn't avoid it any longer. And if I had my way, the people in those chapters wouldn't hate me and maybe things would finish amicably, and understanding be put in place. I knew those people deserved that. And my peace of mind did, too.

"Okay, Prim," I say slowly. "You win."

Prim's blue eyes widen, her lips parted in shock. "Really? You'll go? Oh my God, Katniss! This is freaking amazing! Maybe I can come join you as soon as I finish up my midterms! Haymitch will be so happy. I'll email him tonight. His phone hasn't been working lately, for some reason. To be honest, I'm kind of…"

As Prim babbles excitedly, my mind drifts off and I close my eyes.

_Peeta. _ It isn't my name anymore.

_Peeta_. And it isn't his voice.

It's mine.


	3. It's Starting

_Thanks in advance for all your wonderful reviews, follows and favourites. I wish I could send you all a loaf of bread ;)_

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**Hometown Glory**

Chapter Two: It's Starting

February 14th.

Before, I could care less about this day. Valentine's Day. A day of frivolous spending, false proclamations of love, and just an all around excuse for people to feel sorry for themselves, to turn to someone else for comfort.

But now it would have a completely different meaning: my wedding day. In just under a year I would get married. Not just with white and blue, but red and pink too.

I might as well get used to how _romantic_ this day would forever be to me now.

We decided on the wedding date at the next planning session. I quickly agreed, not thinking about what I was agreeing to at the time because my mother was obviously upset and I didn't want to make matters worse. Even though she maintained a cool composure, I knew she wasn't happy about the bomb I dropped on her.

I told her that I needed Haymitch at the wedding. And that whether or not he'd walk me down the aisle had yet to be determined.

She asked me why I needed to go back to Panem now, why this was so urgent. When I couldn't give her a straight answer, she used it to her advantage. She and Prim were so good at that. She said she understood, but I knew better. When the meeting ended, she wished me a safe trip and said she'd see me when I got back. I knew she wouldn't want to talk to me before that.

But I had to do this. I had to follow through. Always follow through.

Gale's reaction was different from my mother's. It surprised me, but I knew he had his latest court case on his mind more than anything. In fact, we rarely discussed the wedding aside from the two planning sessions we had.

When I told him I'd be going back to Panem, he had no objections. He even looked relieved, not at all jealous or suspicious like I thought he'd be, especially since going back would mean going back to _him_. But I guess he was so busy that it slipped his mind.

Cinna had the most positive reaction of them all. Even in the midst of a dozen scheduled photo shoots, he allowed and even encouraged me to go. He was a good sport about postponing everything, showing to me that we were on the same page; that he valued our personal friendship more than our professional one.

The day before I left he gave me a going-away present; a flat box that I suspected held a notebook of his newest sketches. He made me promise not to open it until I got to Panem. Initially I refused the gift, telling him he

could show me when I got back, but he just smiled and shook his head. He had been so good about giving me vacation time that I couldn't say no.

Prim, in hopes of lessening my anxiety, told me she'd take care of the flight and the arrangements. All I had to do was pack.

I find even this difficult. I'm leaving today. It's morning now, and my flight isn't 'til later in the afternoon. I scan my wardrobe for what seems like the billionth time in the past hour. I see nothing but racks of Capitol clothes that I know would look completely out of place in Panem.

But I remember what few clothes I do have. I reach into the back of my closet, crowded with fancy coats and dresses until my fingers touch buttery leather. It's my father's hunting jacket. I used to wear it all the time back home. It would work.

Throwing it into my suitcase, I cross my room to the chest of drawers Gale and I share. I pull out my underwear drawer with the intention to just grab whatever I get my hands on first when I see an envelope peeking out from behind some bras.

I hesitate and my stomach flutters, knowing immediately what it is. But I take it out anyway. I slowly smooth it open and empty the contents into the palm of my hand. It's the necklace. The silver one with a single pearl pendant, the one _he_ gave me on our first anniversary. _Peeta_.

For some reason, I was afraid of saying his name out loud. Saying it in my head was enough to send me reeling.

But I'm tossing the necklace into my suitcase now. I pause before grabbing it quickly and burying it beneath some socks.

It's irrational, but it feels right. Like everything I felt about him.

He isn't just in my dreams anymore. No, he's come out full force to haunt my thoughts, distract me, impair me.

And in a couple of hours, I am sure I'll be seeing him for the first time in almost four years.

* * *

Gale's arms sneak around my waist as I am folding the last of my clothes and arranging them in my suitcase. I decided to bring a carry-on instead. There was no way I had enough clothes appropriate for Panem to put in a regular sized suitcase. And I didn't feel like I needed them, anyway. No one there would care if I wore the same jeans two or even three days in a row.

"I'm sorry I can't come with you," Gale murmurs into my ear. "It would've been cool to see everyone again."

I don't know what to say. Gale and I don't normally talk about the people from our hometown. He and his family moved from Panem to a place just outside the Capitol about seven years ago. The only reminiscing we did was about us-how we were like when we were kids, teens, and eventually the six months we dated before he moved.

I turn around to look at him, saying nothing as he takes the strands of hair in front of my face and tucks them behind my ear. "How long were you planning on staying there?" he asks.

"A week," I tell him, secretly irritated that he hadn't remembered.

"And not a day longer, right?" his voice is joking, but his eyes are serious. "Any longer and I may have to go back there and bring you home myself."

This is a poor execution of a joke. We both chuckle, but I can tell he isn't kidding. This is the reaction I was waiting for.

"I won't be long," I promise.

He turns to leave when he pauses and looks back at me, finger held up in mid-air. "It doesn't take long to invite him. You don't even have to stay there longer than overnight. In fact," he adds, in the same falsely-joking voice, "Why don't you just call him and invite him instead? You can save money on a plane ticket…"

Gale is obviously bothered by this. He is the last person I know to be stingy, often suggesting we fly to exotic locations for weekend getaways. When he had the time, of course.

"I haven't talked to him in years, Gale. Asking him in person is the right thing to do. The only thing to do," I add, trying to keep my tone of voice as neutral as possible.

Now Gale is suspicious. He narrows his eyes and clenches his jaw-signs that this isn't okay. I hate when he gets like this. He did often when we first started dating again, just three years ago, whenever I said something he didn't like or agree to. After awhile, I just let him have his way. It's easier like that.

But Panem is pulling me back. And as much as I try to resist it, I know I have to take this chance. It's bothering me so much that I have no choice.

"Are you sure he's going to be so welcoming? Like you said, it's been years. No use packing all those clothes when it could be a short visit," Gale's joking façade is wearing dangerously thin now.

I am stung by his negative outlook. But I choose to ignore it. I give a pointed look at my carry-on. "You think this is a lot?"

Gale furrows his eyebrow. "It's not," I tell him, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. "Don't worry, Gale. I'm just going there, inviting Haymitch, maybe say hello to Madge, take in the fresh air and the trees, and I'll be back home in no time."

Gale lets out a chuckle. "Of course. The forest. I forgot how much you loved it. Maybe you should go shoot some arrows while you're at it."

I bite my lip, turning around to zip the suitcase on my bed. That's not really funny to me. But I guess he doesn't really know considering I had never talked about those things with him after I moved here.

I feel Gale's arms around my waist, hugging me from behind once again as he whispers in my ear. "Just Haymitch and Madge right? No one else." It's not a question, it's a statement. His grip on me gets tighter; it's a long squeeze as if he doesn't want to let go.

"No one else."

"I don't think there'd be anyone else to talk to. People only grow up there and move on to bigger and better things. Like me," Gale says. It sounds like he's talking to himself now. But he spins me around and I meet his hard stare. And even though I thought Gale would be too busy to remember my past, he did. There he was, staring straight into my eyes and confirming it.

In Panem there was Peeta. Right?

My stomach drops as I realize that I don't really know.

* * *

"Uncle Haymitch's phone still isn't working," Prim says in frustration as she looks down at her cell phone. We're in the airport now, waiting for my flight to be called. I shift uncomfortably in one of the many hard, plastic seats that fill the airport, row after row after row.

"He hasn't replied to any of my emails, either. So I called Madge Undersee. She said Haymitch has been feeling under the weather lately. And that she'll pick you up herself."

I'm surprised. "Madge?"

Prim nods. "Yeah. Haymitch mentions her sometimes-she helps him out with things around the house. She sounded excited to see you. I knew you were being a drama queen. No one hates you at all."

Wrong. I can think of the one person who probably truly hates me, even if he would never admit it. And I deserve it too. And I'd be lying if I said Haymitch was the only reason I want to go back.

"I'm not surprised Haymitch hasn't answered," I pause, absentmindedly glancing at a couple who had a large suitcase propped open and a smaller one next to it, transferring clothes from the large one to the smaller one. "He probably doesn't want to see me."

"He does," Prim says confidently. "Madge said he saw my email, the one I sent the night you decided to go? Yeah. She said he was really happy about it, telling everyone, even Greasy Sae…"

This is weird to me. Hearing the names of people I hadn't talked to in years makes my insides clench, and I look back at Prim. She takes in my nervous composure. My resolve is crumbling. "Prim, I don't know if I want to do this anymore…"

Prim shakes her head. "Come on, Katniss. Don't back out now."

I bite my nails nervously, contemplating: Fight or flight?

It had been a long time since I picked fight.

Maybe there was still enough of it in me. All I had to do was grab it and hold on for dear life.

* * *

The plane touches down in Seawell, the next town over from Panem. Panem is so small it doesn't have its own airport. Even the crowd awaiting me and the other passengers of the plane from the Capitol is ridiculously tiny. I awkwardly tug my carry-on through the gate and hoist my large tote bag on my shoulder. I bet I look like a deer in the headlights as I scan the crowd.

"Katniss! Over here!"

There's Madge. She's grinning, car keys jingling in one hand and the other waving in the air. She looks different, more mature, but her blonde hair is the same and her green eyes are friendlier than ever.

We hug and to my surprise, it isn't awkward. After four years and my sudden departure, Madge doesn't seem to have any hard feelings toward me like I suspected. I expected our reunion to be frosty. She eyes my suitcase. " Prim didn't tell me how long you were staying."

"I don't need that many clothes," I say somewhat defensively, shifting my tote from one arm to the other.

"I'm surprised. I don't think your closet would fit in there, either," she replies.

I raise an eyebrow.

Madge laughs, nudging me in the arm. "Come on, Katniss. The whole town knows you're an _haute couture_ model now."

"Hardly," I say before adding sarcastically, "Like anyone in town even knows what that means."

"Hey! I read _Vogue_," Madge protests, rolling her eyes as I eye her jean jacket and khaki shorts. "Boy, you're pretty snarky. Glad to see some things never change." She grins.

"I don't know, Madge," I say. "I guess you just bring it out in me." That much is true.

She stows my suitcase and tote bag in the trunk. We start the forty-five minute drive to Panem and after awhile all I see is water as I stare intently out the window. Seawell is known particularly for its fish and chips, beaches and aquatic activities. I am silent as we drive past a familiar part of the forest, knowing just beyond those trees was the setting for the dream I had just a few weeks prior. Not just a dream. A memory.

There isn't an awkward silence. In fact, it's comfortable. Madge and I had never had a friendship where we'd chatter excitedly about everything and anything, like other girls. I was relieved to find nothing had shifted.

"Katniss. There's something I have to tell you," Madge says quietly, keeping her eyes on the road as I peel my own from the water. My heart starts racing. I prepared myself for a confrontation like this-I knew I would encounter some when I got here. I've never been good with words, so I take a deep breath before I begin.

"I know I'm the worst person ever, to have never come back. I know you've heard plenty of stories about me around town, and it's been _years_ since we've talked. We don't know each other at all, and it's weird," I confess, my thoughts jumping all over the place even though I thought I had my speech down pat. "It's rude of me to impose on you, when I haven't been your friend-"

Madge shakes her head, interrupting me. "Don't, Katniss."

"What?"

"I get it," she says slowly, glancing at me quickly before continuing. "I know you wanted the best for Prim, and I know you needed your mother, too."

My guard is up. Leaving had always been about Prim, not me. I had never said I needed my mother to anyone. "Who told you that?"

Madge turns red. "My Aunt Maysilee. She and Haymitch talk once in awhile, you know, even after…"

I nod quickly, looking away. The days of her aunt and my uncle's short-lived romance come to mind.

Madge continues. "I have to admit I was kind of hurt when you didn't exactly keep in touch. But I'm to blame too. If you want to keep the distance, no hard feelings. I just wanted to let you know that after everything that's happened, I'm here if you need me."

"Even if I haven't been there for you?"

"Even if you haven't been there for me."

Our eyes meet for a moment before Madge breaks and looks back at the road. She didn't have to do this for me, but she did anyway. She was still the kind, thoughtful Madge I knew. She's brave. In a small town that seems to know everybody's business, she was willing to welcome me with open arms, even though there could be consequences.

And at that moment I wondered what I did to deserve a friend like Madge Undersee.

* * *

I'm excited when I see the "Welcome to Panem!" sign and I roll down the window, breathing in the smell of pine and smoke and wood. The sun is beating down on my face and I feel the cool breeze. I long to feel it in my hair, but it's in its usual braid down my back.

"Look at you," Madge laughs. "Eyes lit up and everything." She makes a left and we pull into the parking lot of Coin's Convenience, the general store in town that sold everything from water guns to cigarettes to baby clothes. I see that it hasn't changed: the large sign out front and the building itself is kept clean and rust-free. Even the surrounding green grass is neatly trimmed, and the large boulder that sits in the grass near the door doesn't have a speck of moss on it.

Madge cuts the engine and turns to me.

"Katniss, when I was on the phone with Prim earlier… I lied," she says, lowering her eyes. "I lied about Haymitch. He's not exactly 'under the weather'."

I take a moment to let this sick in before I stutter, "is it serious?"

"You could say that…"

And as if on timing, who bursts out of Coin's Convenience but my Uncle Haymitch, paper bag-wrapped liquor bottle in hand, slurring obscenities at Alma Coin herself. She gives him a nudge forward, a look of disgust on her face as he stumbles and almost trips on the stone pathway.

Instinctively I unbuckle my seatbelt and race toward him, catching him just before he falls and cracks his head on the boulder.

"Whoa, slow down there," I say to him as he tries to steady himself, his hand on my arm for balance. His eyes are practically closed, and then he's blinking quickly as Madge reaches us, lifting Haymitch up from his other side.

"S-stop, stop," my uncle slurs, batting our arms away and tugging his jacket up onto his arm with his free hand. He takes another swig from his bottle before struggling to open his eyes, glancing at Madge first before taking my face in.

His eyes widen and the bottle slips from his fingers, crashing at my feet, liquor soaking the bag and spilling out, forming a puddle between us. I take a step back, my lips parted in shock, before Haymitch mutters, "Katniss."

I look at him and his eyes roll back into his head, lids shutting completely before he collapses.

* * *

He's passed out in the backseat of Madge's car. How Madge and I managed to get him in there was a miracle, especially with Alma Coin's eyes boring into the back of our heads. I heard her icy voice call my name as we arranged my uncle in the backseat but I chose to ignore it. No doubt one of the cattiest women in town was looking to get a reaction out of me. But I'd be damned if I was going to give it to her.

Now she's standing in front of her store, arms folded across her chest as she watches us pull out of the parking lot. Madge and I say nothing, the silence between us filled only with the ticking of her turn signal. My eyes are glued to the road before I finally gather the courage to speak.

"He didn't know I was coming, did he?" I say, my voice caught in my throat.

Madge slowly shakes her head.

"Does this happen often? Is he always like this?" I ask.

Madge meets my eyes and it doesn't take any words for me to know that Haymitch is always drunk.

"I think it was seeing you that made him pass out more than anything," Madge says, trying to reassure me.

"How long has this been happening? When did it start?" I continue desperately. I need to know that leaving didn't have worse consequences than the ones I already thought of in my head.

Madge turns back to the road. "He's been that way for awhile."

She isn't giving me the answers that I need to hear. "Look, Madge, I need to know. Did this start after Prim and I left?" I pause, a more important thought entering my mind. "Who's been taking care of him?" I remember Alma Coin's reaction and I think the worst-that the whole town thinks the same way of my uncle that she does, and somehow they punished him for it.

As if Madge can read my mind, she shakes her head. "Everyone knows that your family's been through a lot. They've tried to help him, but he refuses. Starts screaming, gets erratic. He'll only let one person even remotely close to him."

I rub my temples and close my eyes, trying to figure everything out. How could no one tell me this was happening? I feel the heat rising to my cheeks, anger starting to bubble up in me. I want to get mad at Madge for acting like a friend now, as if trying to make up for not notifying me of my Uncle's state.

I wanted to get mad at anyone but me.

"Those photos. The emails that Prim sent. The phone calls?" I say, my voice rising as I ask about each.

"Haymitch would sober himself up for the call. And the photos," Madge's voice is strained. She turns on the headlights; the sun is disappearing and darkness is taking its place.

"Did Prim know about any of this?" I ask, daring Madge to lie to me. The look on Madge's face makes it clear that she doesn't know, and that maybe I'm the one who should. I bite my lip, regretting my words. Prim wouldn't lie to me. Not anymore.

"He didn't want you guys to know. I think he felt ashamed," Madge admits, pulling onto a road that I remembered led to a part of town called Victor's Village, known for its spacious land between two-storey houses. The people who lived in this part of town were usually retirees or recluses who wanted peace and quiet.

"He told you that?"

Madge signals right onto a bumpier dirt road, the dim of a lone streetlight a couple of feet away illuminating what I made out as three houses in the distance. She hesitates before saying, "no."

"How do you know all of this then?" I ask, trying to hide the suspicion in my voice. I didn't need Madge to get mad, to shut down on me now. She didn't owe me anything. And I needed a friend here.

"I help him out sometimes. Clean his house. When Aunt Maysilee is in town, she helps too. They talk here and there. But she doesn't visit often. She moved to Luxville a couple of years ago," she adds.

I remember Madge's Aunt Maysilee. My mother's childhood best friend.

When my mom shut us out after Dad died, she would come by and take Prim, Madge and I out on nature walks, to the ice cream shop, to Seawell for daytrips to the beach. Anywhere to soften the impact of my mother's depression. Maysilee would spend days sitting in front of my mother, talking to her quietly, helping her eat. She would have long conversations with Haymitch after dinner. And eventually, my mother got better. That marked the start of Haymitch and Maysilee's relationship. Unfortunately, what ended it was my mother leaving for the Capitol.

The thing was, when I was younger, I always thought Maysilee, Haymitch, Prim and I would be one big happy family. And that when my mother got better, she would join us. And she did get better. But she never joined us. My mother had taken enormous strides-started by getting out of bed, helping cook breakfast and dinner. After awhile she even went back to work.

But as Haymitch and Maysilee's relationship grew more and more serious, my mother left abruptly to work in the Capitol. She said there was better work there. More opportunities.

Haymitch and Maysilee split not long after my mother left. I never wanted to ask Haymitch why it didn't work out, never wanted to pry. Part of me thought that Maysilee, just like my mother, was coming back. But she didn't. And gone were the visits with her and Madge. Her family kept a cool distance from ours, and I only saw Madge at school. I was hurt and confused, but got over it as soon as I realized that I had something more important to do: care for Prim.

Madge is backing up into a large driveway now, the second of the three houses on the street.

"Where are we?" I ask.

She looks at me. "What has Prim told you, exactly?"

"Not a lot," I confess. I realize now that Prim, probably out of habit, hadn't exactly filled me in on the changes that awaited me here in Panem, changes that I had so tactfully avoided knowing about for almost four years now.

Madge sighs. "Well. For starters, this is where Haymitch lives. You'll be staying here too. I, um, come by sometimes to clean it up. "

I turn around and squint my eyes at the neat, tidy house and then glance down at my uncle, who is snoring in the backseat. "Does he have a job?" I ask Madge.

"Odd jobs. He raises geese too."

This isn't new to me. My uncle couldn't seem to hold one job, even though he was ridiculously intelligent. Too smart for a town like this, my mother would tell me sometimes. But he didn't seem bothered that he changed jobs so often. In fact, he seemed to like it. And when my mother left, he took whatever work he could find. Even this wasn't enough, as I had to take on a job too.

There was no way he could afford a house like this. It was practically a palace compared to the dark, dingy house we had back in the Seam, the part of town I grew up in that was riddled with poverty and a thick sense of hopelessness. The acres of field had to have added on to a huge price tag for this place.

I turn to Madge, ready to ask a dozen or so more questions, but she waves me off with her hand, shaking her head. "Let's just get you settled in. I'm sure you've had a long flight. You must be tired."

"But Madge-"

"No more questions, Katniss. I wouldn't feel right about answering anything else. Just talk to Haymitch in the morning."

I sigh and unbuckle my seatbelt, Madge doing the same as I open the car door and attempt to heave my uncle out from the back seat. He's snoring loudly as we hoist him up. I put one arm on my shoulder and the other on Madge's to drag him toward the front door. I contemplate waking him up so he can walk, but the two of us manage to reach the Welcome! mat with Haymitch's feet only sometimes scraping the pavement. We stand him upright, and he's still leaning onto us for support as Madge fumbles with her keys. Frustrated, she lets go of Haymitch completely, and I struggle to hold him up alone.

"Ugh. Worst timing ever," she mutters as she finally gets the door open. "If only he was here as usual, this would work out better. Stupid P-" she stops abruptly, glancing quickly at me before she heaves Haymitch's arm over her shoulder. We stumble to the couch where we drop my uncle, who immediately starts snoring away on his side as if we didn't move him at all.

Madge looks at me for a moment, and before I can say anything, she quickly crosses over to the left side of the house and through a doorway. I glance at Haymitch before following her, entering a clean kitchen with marble countertops, stainless steel appliances and a sizeable fridge. I pause at the doorway, taking all of it in. Madge is standing at the island, piece of paper in her hand, furrowing her eyebrow at the contents. In front of her I notice a large grocery bag.

I start toward her and her head snaps up before she quickly crumples the paper into a ball. I narrow my eyes, immediately suspicious. "Madge, what are you doing?"

"Nothing!" Madge squeaks, throwing the piece of paper behind her. Before she can say another word I lunge for the grocery bag just before she grabs at it. I open it up and inside are two tupperware containers, one filled rice and the other with what looks like some sort of stew. There's a paper bag in there too, and I recognize it immediately. The familiar red logo on the white bag.

I grab it, take it in my hands, peeking at the contents.

Cheese-y buns. I invented these.

It doesn't take much to transport me back to that summer, the summer I started working at the Mellark Bakery.

The summer I let my guard down and let _him_ in.

The summer I fell in love with Peeta Mellark.

* * *

_I know you guys are waiting for Peeta to come into this story, but I honestly felt the need to provide a bit of background beforehand. The next chapter should be quite enjoyable though (I hope). And I know this chapter was ridiculously long! I was thinking about dividing it into two but I didn't want to torture you guys with two chapters w/o our beloved Peeta bread. This took a bit longer to put out than I anticipated because it needed a lot of editing. If I had sent it to my beta, it probably would've taken longer. Thank you to everyone who followed and even favourited this story. The faith you put into me is unreal :)_


	4. It Was Out of Left Field

_This is the start of a flashback arc, which may or may not include a chapter written from Peeta's POV… still debating whether or not I should write it. Thoughts? Let me know!_

* * *

**Hometown Glory**

Chapter Three: It Was Out of Left Field 

"Congratulations, sweetheart."

Haymitch looked at me with a sly smile as he carefully placed the tassles of my graduation cap from one side to the other. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, shaking me in an affectionate squeeze.

"Thanks," I responded.

"Katniss!" Prim ran toward me, clothed in a white sundress to honour my white graduation grown. She threw her arms around me with a wide smile on her face as I shook my head in mock disbelief. The sun was beating down on our shoulders, and even in the midst of all the laughter, introductions and classmates high-fiving each other, I felt as if it was just us. Just our little family now.

Haymitch took out our old beat up camera and gestured for Prim and I to pose together. I grimaced. I hated photos. I wrote them off time-consuming and far too unnecessary, never being printed and destined to stay on the camera, never to be looked at again.

Haymitch sighed, looking at me as if asking _please just this one time be cooperative and take a photo for this very important day_. I sighed back, equally exasperated, but pulled Prim in close.

I plastered an uncomfortable smile on my face as Prim, unphased, showed off her pearly whites. Haymitch snapped away, checking each photo before taking another, this time in which I chose not to hide my displeasure.

"Your turn! Come here!" Prim called. I shifted uncomfortably in my gown. I wanted to rip off the itchy material so badly but Haymitch already turned to the first person he saw to take a photo of us.

It was a boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. Our student body president and valedictorian, Peeta Mellark.

I didn't know him formally. I was too busy working, studying or taking care of Prim to be bothered with extracurriculars. But everyone knew him. The all-around good guy, super nice, everybody's best friend. The son of the baker, who was the owner of Mellark Bakery, the most popular newly renovated _patisserie_ in town that I had never tried because I couldn't justify specialty bread in our food budget.

Peeta was also known for being an incredibly good speaker. Winner of numerous speech arts awards, even. But he was silent as he looked down at the camera Haymitch was holding in front of him as he was told how to zoom in and out and where the shutter button was.

Haymitch joined Prim and I. We posed as Peeta held the camera up, pointing it at us.

But ten seconds later he still hadn't taken the photo.

My smile had gotten sloppier and sloppier before falling completely off my face. I was getting impatient. "What's taking so long?" I complained as I watched Peeta's concentrated expression. He didn't respond to me, instead finally calling out, "cheese!" before clicking the shutter button.

He laughed as Haymitch and I went up to him to take a look at the photo.

"I'm not even smiling," I grumbled, expecting Haymitch to be equally annoyed. To my surprise, Haymitch chuckled, clapping a hand on Peeta's shoulder.

"You captured her perfectly," he grinned. I glared at him and then at Peeta, who smiled crookedly at me.

"Want another photo?"

"Forget it," I muttered, folding my arms across my chest.

"I'm kidding." I looked up at him and my eyes locked with his. I couldn't help but notice how _blue_ they were, how warm and inviting they looked. And as quickly as it started, I broke our gaze, choosing to turn my head and focus on a group of newly-graduated jocks throwing a football around.

What a weird feeling.

"Thanks for the photo," Haymitch said and clapped his hand on Peeta's shoulder again. "What's your name again?"

"Peeta. Peeta Mellark."

"Oh, the baker's son," Haymitch said, surprised.

"Yep," Peeta said, his face turning slightly pink.

Haymitch looked at Prim and I with wide eyes as if we didn't already know who he was. Prim cocked her head, giving our uncle a meaningful look as his eyes grew even wider in realization.

"Right! The valedictorian. Great speech about the future. Well done," Haymitch said quickly, coughing loudly. I rolled my eyes at his lacklustre bullshitting. He was acting as if he wasn't the one snoring loudly, third row from the front of the stage despite the fact that Prim was trying to wake him up the whole time.

But I couldn't blame him. He wasn't able to switch his shift off the night before at the Panem Historical Museum where he worked as a security guard. And even though I reassured him he didn't have to come to the ceremony, he did. Even though his eyes were red and he slept through most of it, he was there. That was what really mattered.

"Well, Peeta, I wish you the best of luck in college," Haymitch told him genuinely, nodding his head and looking at me as if to say _well he's really something_. Just another reminder, another hit at me not continuing my education. It would've been nice to, but we just couldn't afford it right now. And Prim still needed me.

"Actually, I'm not going to college," his face was even redder now as he ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. He looked up. "Not yet, at least."

I wasn't able to hide my surprise. Even this was news to me. "But all those colleges you were accepted to. You're the student body president. The valedictorian! Most likely to be successful. Why not start now?" I added quickly. I felt my face grow hot as Peeta, Prim and Haymitch stared at me, reacting to my sudden outburst.

"So you _do_ know I exist," Peeta grinned, almost smirking.

"You're the student body president," I repeated, lowering my eyes.

There was an awkward pause as they waited for me to continue, silence settling between us as I said nothing. I didn't want to risk further embarrassment. Peeta caught on and nodded at Haymitch. "I'm actually going to stay back a bit and help my father with the bakery," he said brightly, as if that was exactly what he wanted to do.

"Ah. Taking over the family business?"

"Yup. Someone's got to do it. My older brothers are already in college. I couldn't bear to leave my poor old man fending for himself," he joked, glancing at me before looking back at Haymitch.

"So it's just you and your dad now?" Haymitch asked.

Peeta lowered his eyes. "Yeah."

Haymitch eyes darted back and forth between me and Peeta. His lips slowly turned upward into a smile. "Well, if you ever need any help, you're welcome to hire Katniss."

Peeta looked up in surprise as I opened my mouth in protest. "Actually I-"

"Katniss used to teach archery at the rec centre," Haymitch explained to Peeta. "But they're cutting the program. Not enough people registered this time 'round."

I glared at Haymitch. "I'm working on it! Nothing's been decided yet!"

Prim shook her head. "Don't get your hopes up," she warned. "Rue told me that they're cutting costs everywhere this year. Even at-" she stopped abruptly. "Uh, never mind."

"You know, my dad's been thinking of hiring another employee," Peeta spoke, his eyes meeting mine. "I'm sure he'd be willing to hire you if I asked."

"I know nothing about bread," I told him, folding my arms across my chest.

"I'd teach you," he smiled.

"No need. I do a fine job of teaching others how to use a bow and arrow," I responded in the coolest tone of voice I could muster. I didn't know why I was getting defensive. I didn't want to swallow my pride.

"I know. I've seen you shoot," Peeta said simply, his eyes still locked with mine. "Anyway, the offer still stands. Let me know."

He turned to Haymitch and shook his hand. "Nice meeting you."

He moved to Prim, a smile on his face and a hand on her shoulder as he said, "Great to see you Prim."

Finally, he looked at me, the corners of his mouth turned upward. "Congratulations, Katniss." He moved toward me, a hand out, pulling me in, closer than I thought was necessary. Nevertheless, I took his hand and felt his electric touch. "Thanks. You too," I whispered.

He moved into the crowd and was gone. Haymitch turned to me, eyebrows raised. Prim examined my expression. I shot them both an exasperated look. "What?"

"You should've taken a photo together," Haymitch said.

"I don't even know him," I grumbled, brushing him off. My eyes followed Peeta, halfway across the field now, greeting a group of other seniors. One I vaguely recalled as Cato, if only for his reputation as Panem High's bad boy and all-around asshole. As if he could hear my thoughts, his eyes trailed from where Peeta was to me, his eyebrow raised in sudden interest.

I bit my lip and looked away, Prim noticing and shooting me a funny look. She grabbed a hold of my arm and started toward some tables on the opposite end of the field, where people were setting up post-ceremony refreshments. "Come on. Let's go get some cake."

* * *

"Oops."

The dough landed on the table with a soft _thunk_. Its weight threatened to carry it off the edge before Peeta took it in his hands and started to expertly knead it on the floured surface before he reached for a rolling pin.

"I'm horrible at this."

"Come on, it's your first week. I bet you weren't expecting me to show you how to throw pizza dough in the air," I could hear the smile in Peeta's voice as I leaned against the counter behind him, his back turned to me. I had given up all resolve to touch the dough, brushing off excess flour from between my hands choosing to fold my arms against my chest instead.

"Your dad should just keep me on cash," I muttered.

"He wants us to all be well-rounded employees," Peeta joked as he smoothed the dough into a large circle now. No doubt that this piece of dough, once turned into pizza, would be gone in just an hour, when lunch would start and groups of construction workers from a site nearby would come piling in.

"Well-rounded," I snorted, even though I shouldn't complain. Mr. Mellark was generous enough to even give me the job without any prior experience.

Thanks to Peeta.

At first, I was suspicious. He didn't know me. He didn't owe me anything. Why was he sticking his neck out for his dad to hire me? Mr. Mellark was friendly, but I sensed reluctance during my interview. I was still pissed about my rec centre job falling through, but I quicky pulled myself together after I realized I needed to work more than ever. Haymitch was without a job again, the Panem Historical Museum deciding its artifacts and heirlooms weren't precious enough to warrant security.

So I strode into Mellark bakery on a mission, trying my best to sound like I knew what I was doing. As Mr. Mellark interviewed me at one of the tables, his back facing the counter as I sat in front of him, Peeta was serving customers. Once in awhile I caught him looking at us as from behind the cash register, a look on his face that I couldn't describe. All I knew was that a week later, after I had gone crazy and applied everywhere in town but hadn't heard back from any of them, Mr. Mellark was calling, offering me the job.

But it didn't sit well with me. I was almost certain Peeta had something to do with it, but I couldn't confront him now. I needed this job. And whether I liked it or not, I still owed him.

"Don't give up," Peeta encouraged me, spreading sauce on the pizza now. I couldn't help but notice how quick and easy it was for him, how effortless he made it look. He had the pizza in the oven not even a minute later. Years of experience was evident in the way he handled himself.

Rubbing his hands on his apron, he turned to look at me. "Did you catch all of that?"

"Uh… yeah," I lied.

"Ready to try again?"

"Nope," I said, moving to the island counter where the cutting board and knife lay, silver containers of vegetables and pizza toppings lined up neatly in front of them. I picked up the knife and started absentmindedly chopping some green peppers. At least I couldn't screw this up.

Peeta followed, standing next to me and surveying the trays. "Katniss… we don't need that many vegetables."

"You just finished a pizza. Of course you need more," I said, even though I knew fully well that I had cut enough vegetables this past week to last us into the next one.

"This is a bakery, not a pizzeria," Peeta said, moving closer, watching me. My dicing got slower. For a moment both of us said nothing, the only sound in the room being knife hitting wood.

"Howcome you don't cut the pineapples?" he asked suddenly.

"What?"

"The pineapples. You never cut them," Peeta said, picking one off the counter and holding it in his hand, as if I didn't know what it was.

I flushed, keeping my eyes on my knife. "I don't like pineapples."

"What?"

"The pineapples. I hate them," I said, turning to meet his shocked expression.

"How could you hate _pineapples_?" he asked in disbelief, as if I said I hated puppies or kittens.

"They're just… I don't know. Tropical. And sweet. Why would you put that on pizza?" I responded defiantly.

"That's exactly why they work. They're sweet. Unexpected. A pleasant surprise," Peeta said, as if desperately trying to make me understand.

I shook my head. "They're stringy."

"Stringy," Peeta repeated. "Are you kidding me?"

"Nope."

"And let me guess-you don't like surprises either?" Peeta asked as I finished chopping the peppers, sliding them off my cutting board and into their metal tray. I set down my knife.

"I'm not particularly fond of them, no," I said, starting to get irritated.

"You're killing me, Katniss," Peeta said, heading over to the mixer and pulling out a finished batch of dough.

"Why? Are you planning on surprising me with pineapples to take home or something?" I asked, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

"I really should. We have so many of them that you hadn't chopped this week, they're probably going to go bad real soon."

I sighed. "Peeta. Let it go. I don't like pineapples, okay? They're just really foreign and…. it's not the end of the world." Once again, I was stumbling on my words.

He stopped working the dough in front of him, resting his hands on the counter, his back facing me. I could see his broad shoulders, his plain white T stretching over the muscles in his back and emphasizing his biceps. I swallowed, feeling something stirring in my stomach.

He turned around, eyes locking with mine. I couldn't help but notice the way his hair hung across his forehead, his eyes so friendly, so optimistic. I was acutely aware of my heartbeat as he said confidently, "sometimes the best things come from the unknown."

* * *

I tilted my head back as I stood in front of the fan, closing my eyes and finding temporary relief. It was still hot air blowing in my face, but it was better than nothing.

Panem was facing one of its mid-summer heatwaves. The entire week had been nothing short of hot, humid, sticky, and just plain unbearable. It was slow at the bakery for obvious reasons-namely, the Mellark Bakery's lack of air conditioning. I stared in disbelief at the few regulars who still came in for their daily cup of coffee and hot, freshly baked bread.

I was starting to get hang of things. It had been two weeks since I started working, and I found that I was actually quite efficient. As long as I stayed out of the kitchen. Mr. Mellark seemed more relaxed around me, pleased that I turned out to be such a hard worker. He was friendly and nice to everyone, but I noticed that when he smiled, it rarely reached his eyes.

It was easy to work with him. Even easier to work with his son. Peeta really did live up to his reputation-patient, good conversationalist, ridiculously optimistic. But he was a hard worker, too, always coming in early and listing off the tasks he'd accomplished to his dad-as if he was determined to prove something to him. But I never asked questions. And Peeta always did. Small talk, mostly, but his questions were always easy to answer. I didn't want to admit it, but I was starting to feel more at ease around him.

It was lunch hour, and I wasn't surprised that we hadn't received the usual crowd of customers from last week. In one hand, I balanced a tray lined with checkered paper and loaded with fresh croissants. In the other, I held a bag of milk to replenish the mini fridge. The bell on the door jingled, signaling another customer as I struggled to set the croissant tray on a shelf behind the display window. But I almost dropped both when I saw who it was.

"Hi, Katniss," Cato Anderson said, his smooth confident voice addressed me directly. His hands were placed loosely in the pockets of his khaki shorts and his head was tilted slightly upward. He smirked as I tried my best to mask my surprise, Mr. Mellark being only a few feet away and evaluating my interaction with customers.

"How can I help you today?" I asked evenly, as if we had talked countless times before.

"I'm looking for Peeta. Is he around?"

"His shift doesn't start for another hour," I told him, meeting his eyes before moving to put the milk bag in the fridge.

"Huh. Okay," he said, keeping his eyes on me. I was suddenly aware of my outfit, which consisted of too-small cutoff jeans and a ratty white v-neck T. My cheeks burned as Cato continued to stare. I had to say something, whether Mr. Mellark liked it or not.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" I asked him, my face hardening. But the smirk didn't leave Cato's face.

"No, I guess not today," he replied, glancing at Mr. Mellark, who was raising an eyebrow at him. "See you later." He slowly peeled his eyes off of me, hands still in his pockets as he turned and walked out the door, the little bell ringing louder than usual in my ears. I swallowed, my eyebrows furrowed and forehead tense. In my peripheral vision I could see Mr. Mellark staring at me. I met his eyes before he laughed, shaking his head. "The heat brings out the weird in everyone," he joked. I offered him a small smile. No doubt he would believe the best in everyone. His son obviously took after him.

Later, I sat on the back porch of the bakery, fanning myself with a Coin's Convenience flier and desperately trying to quench my thirst with an iced tea that Mr. Mellark made me. It was dark now, but the sun's absence did little to alleviate the thick heat that still hung in the air. I cursed myself and Haymitch for thinking it was good for me to work in a bakery during the summer.

As I swatted a mosquito away, I heard the door behind me creak open and slam shut, and someone muttering _damn door_. Before I could turn me head to see who it was, Peeta was sitting down beside me.

"It's _so_ hot," he groaned, looking over at me as I sipped at my iced tea. He moved his head closer to me, mockingly catching the air I was fanning for myself. "Hey," I complained.

"Katniss," he said seriously, "I've been working in the kitchen with those hot ovens for the past three hours. I think I deserve some of that hot air you're fanning for yourself."

I tilted my head, questioning his tone of voice. His eyes held my own for a moment before his lips moved toward the cup I was holding, just narrowly missing my chin. "Uh-uh," I heard myself saying. "Go get some from your dad."

He groaned, moving to lean back on his hands. "Ooops," he said as he pressed down on the foil-covered bun I brought out with me. Before I could speak, he snatched it and unwrapped it, licking his lips. "What have we here…" he started, unwrapping it and pausing to look curiously at the contents. "You put cheese in this?"

I turned red. "I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich. All we had was buns left. I-"

"So you like cheese?" he said, looking pleased that he had discovered this tidbit about me.

"Who doesn't," I muttered, looking away and taking another swig at my cup of iced tea. "I know it looks delicious, but don't you take a bite of it."

He chucked, wrapping my bun and placing it back where it was. He leaned back on his hands and I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye.

The stars were out. Even if I did get tired of this tiny town, I never got tired of the beautiful sky it offered at night. I looked up at it in admiration, and I couldn't help but smile, enthusiasm on my face as I remembered what my dad used to say. _Look, Katniss. You see the stars and the moon up there? They're yours. The sun, too. Everything else might change, but those are forever…_

I snapped back to reality when I noticed silence was starting to settle between us. Out of the corner of my eye, Peeta seemed distracted. I remembered the strange encounter with Cato from earlier and decided to mention it, if only to say anything.

"Cato was looking for you," I said to Peeta. He turned his head to look at me fully now, his expression changing to one I couldn't describe. "Really?"

"Yeah. It was weird. He didn't order anything," I continued, finishing off my iced tea and setting it down next to me.

"That's odd…"

"Yeah," I said again, nodding. "You seem to know him pretty well… is he always like that?"

Peeta laughed. "What makes you think I know him pretty well?"

I shrugged. "Isn't he in your inner circle?"

Peeta shrugged back. "I hang out with everyone. But what do you mean, 'is he always like that'?"

"I don't know. Weirdly intense. Does he always stare and wear that smirk on his face?"

Peeta barked out a laugh. "That's not nice. How do you know that's not just his default face? What if he can't help it?"

I looked at him defiantly. "I see him enough. I mean, everytime I saw him in the caf I-" I stopped mid-sentence as I saw Peeta grinning at me. "I'm kidding," he said.

"You seem to say that a lot," I said irritably, rolling my eyes. Peeta chuckled again before responding, "Cato's a nice guy. He might seem kind of unapproachable at first, but he's really cool once you get to know him."

I nodded, reaching between us for my sandwich. I unwrapped the contents and took a bite, marveling at the taste, a groan passing between my lips. "So good."

"Can I have a bite?" Peeta asked, his expression sad, doing his best puppy dog face. I bit my lip, trying not to laugh as I held the sandwich as far away as I could from him.

He inched closer to me, face first as if trying to get his mouth closer to steal a bite. I leaned away from him, and I couldn't suppress the laugh that escaped from my lips. Hurrying to move further away from his open mouth, I accidentally flicked my hand and the sandwich rolled onto the grass, uncovered side first.

I let out a sigh as I turned back toward him, finding a pair of blue eyes staring back at me curiously. He was so close… breathing in, I could smell a mixture of sugar and cinnamon, and the heat was radiating off his skin and his body was practically on top of mine now…

I flushed as I was suddenly very aware of the compromising position we were in. Peeta hesitated before he moved back slowly, allowing me to sit upright again. "Sorry…" he muttered, not looking at me. He got up to pick the sandwich off the ground and gave me a sheepish grin, raising it in his hand. "I'll make you another one." I nodded quickly, still wracking my brain over what just happened.

There was an awkward pause as he stood there in front of me, and I couldn't stand it. I quickly got up, brushed my jeans off and bolted inside the bakery. I made sure to hold the door as it closed so it wouldn't slam, and as soon as it clicked shut I lay my head back on it, concentrating on my breathing. I couldn't figure out the knots in my stomach, the flush in my face. I closed my eyes, softly knocking my head against the door. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

* * *

"I'm home," I called, dropping my keys onto the nearby table and headed into the living room, tired and sweaty and in need of a serious shower. The best part of working at the bakery was that I didn't go home hungry. I had managed to take some bread while Peeta was putting out the trash. I avoided him for the rest of the night, trying to appear too busy for him to talk to me. I was worried I might've been too dramatic, but I had never let anyone that physically close to me. Ever. Not even Gale, which was one of the reasons I considered our "six-month relationship" barely anything more than confessed feelings and frustration and fruitless attempts to get me to open up.

I stored a loaf of pumpernickel in the fridge and shuffled toward the living room ready to flop onto the couch, shower or no shower. But someone had already beat me to it. I moved closer and realized it was Haymitch snoring, an old episode of _Mythbusters_ playing quietly on the TV. I reached forward for the remote when Haymitch stirred, his eyes fluttering open.

"Oh, Katniss," he said sleepily, rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly. "Hey. What time is it?"

"It's time for you to go to bed," I told him, crossing the room to straighten up the pillows of the armchair on the other side of the room.

Haymitch stretched, sitting up on the couch. "How was work?"

"Fine. Where's Prim?" I asked.

Haymitch shrugged. "Probably still out with Rue." I glanced at the clock, and right on cue the lock turned and the door swung open. Prim hurried inside, cheeks flushed and a smile on her face.

"Speak of the devil," Haymitch said, turning his head to look at Prim as he pushed himself up off the couch. "Where have you been?"

"Just at Rue's," Prim said, the same smile plastered on her face. Haymitch nodded. "Did her mom drop you off?"

"Um, yeah," Prim started toward her room. Haymitch gave her a look. "Why in such a hurry?"

"I'm just tired," Prim said quickly, opening the door to her room, adding, "goodnight!"

Haymitch looked at me. "You better go to bed, too," he said to me as I flopped on the couch, hand on my head and shoes still on my feet. He shuffled to his room, shutting the door behind him as I flipped on the television to watch some brain-numbing TV. I contemplated falling asleep right there on the couch, shoes and all. I reached over to grab the cotton that Haymitch left crumpled on the sofa, sighing as I sat up straight, preparing to fold it. As I tugged on it, it uncovered a large photo album. Frowning, I stretched further to snatch it in my hands, observing the dust that stuck to it and the title on the cover. _Abernathy Family. Haymitch and Susan, Kids_.

I opened the book to the first page and saw a photo of two blonde kids, wearing green and pink sunglasses. My uncle and my mother. Haymitch had his tongue stuck out at the camera while my mom was grinning, missing teeth and all. I bit my lip. Cute kids.

I turned to the next page, almost dropping a loose photo from the book. I turned it over and saw Haymitch and my mother, in their early twenties now, looking at the camera with silly expressions, my mother crossing her eyes and Haymitch scrunching his face. Her hair was loose and wavy, and she looked like she had more life in her than she had in the last few years I had seen her. I touched the photo, a lump rising in my throat and stinging pain in my eyes.

"We're doing just fine without you, Mom," I said before I closed the book, putting it on the coffee table. I never said her name out loud, never mentioned her. As far as I was concerned, I didn't have to. She was long gone. But she came alive in that photo, a constant reminder of what used to be. Another reason why I hated photos.

And even though it was one of the hottest days of the summer, I suddenly felt colder than ever. Goosebumps popped up on my arms and I shivered, my eyes feeling heavy. So I wrapped the sheet around me, waiting for sleep to come and found that that night, it simply wouldn't.

* * *

_Sorry this chapter took a bit of time to put out, I was at the point where I had so many ideas for this story but just didn't know how to arrange them… it took some discussing with my beta but everything is looking good for now. I am constantly looking for ways to improve my writing, so I may post a chapter and then later feel the need to add more detail… I just get really excited about finishing it then I tend to jump the gun on posting. Sorry ^^;_

_And I made a writing Tumblr! heroinewithin. You can find statuses on chapters, as well as some little drabbles I'm planning on doing._


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